


Her House

by Eric_Cleric



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Crylo Ren, Emo Kylo Ren, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Dynamics, Gen, Han and Leia's A+ parenting, Internalized Homophobia, Masculinity, Motherhood, Other, POV Leia Organa, Regrets, Retrospective, Self-Hatred, Temper Tantrums, Young Ben Solo, implied gay character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:51:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9221861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eric_Cleric/pseuds/Eric_Cleric
Summary: As Leia completes an evening of work in her old house, she reflects on what her life had been when she'd lived there with a husband and son. More importantly, she reflects on why it all fell apart.





	1. Chapter 1

They say hindsight is 20/20.

Leia thought about this as she sipped absently at a cup of coffee in her cold and lonesome house.

She breathed into it and felt the steam on her face, blinking slowly. The years hadn't been kind to her. Her life is not how she might have imagined it to be in her youth, when she was filled with hope for humanity and optimism for the future. Though she talked about a glorious, far off future while talking to those in the Resistance, it wasn't a future she believed in. Not for her, anyway. Not anymore.

She and Han had bought the small house back when the dream of having a family and a life outside of war was exciting and tangible. Its empty, cold walls now belonged only to her, now that those childish fantasies were long behind her. Part of Leia wanted to put the old house behind her, too, but another part deep within her being couldn't bear to part with it. It humanized her. Even though it had since been moved to a nearly vacant moon of a very distant planet for reasons of safety and security, Leia found comfort in having a house. A home. Something from her past that she hadn't lost.

That same hushed part of her wished she'd listened to those who'd said she and Han were wrong for each other. Though she'd tried to live a respectable life free of regrets, she couldn't help but fantasize about a parallel reality where she hadn't fallen so easily for Han's tricks; For his conceited smiles, his witty sarcasm. The very things she was once wooed by when she was young, she knew now were all red flags. Signs that pointed to a man in the future who'd be too obsessed with himself, his ego, to care for his wife and son. If only she'd listened to the so many people who had told her back then. If only she hadn't been so foolish, maybe her life could be something different.

She sighed deeply, not overcome with sadness, but rather numbed by the years. She was no longer young. As much as she'd often wished, she could not turn back time. Oh, the things she'd say could she ever go back in time and speak to her youthful, foolish self:

A marriage cannot last on love, because love doesn't last.

She laughed humorlessly at the thought, sipping again at her coffee. She had been so seduced by love in her youth. If only she'd known that that love was never meant for her.

She stood up finally and walked across the room to an array of papers she'd had sprawled across her kitchen table. She poured over them intently, setting down her beverage. Even when she was hidden away at her house, far from the war, she was never apart from it. She constantly had open various computers and modes of communication. Tonight, though, she needed to clear her mind. She had strategic plans to make within her own head before she brought them before the council. Leading the Resistance was more work behind the scenes than people gave her credit for. Of course, credit was the last thing she wanted. She'd learned through the years how to be intrinsically satisfied by the knowledge of a job well done. Knowing in her own head that she'd helped people. Knowing in her own heart that she'd cared for them. And that had to be good enough for her now.

While some may have attributed Leia's success as a general to a hereditary gift, she knew it was truly the nights like these that went unrecognized that made her who she was. No, it was not a talent or a gift; God knows nothing had really been gifted to her. Her success was the product of sleepless nights and relentless work. She smiled at this thought. Her work was hers, and that could never be taken from her. And maybe that is why she did it, just to prove to herself that she could and to have something in this life that people wouldn't pity her for. Something she was good at.

Would she have traded it all to be a successful wife? A successful mother? It scarcely mattered. In those respects, she'd already failed. She was in no position to bargain with the universe over which life she'd prefer: A beautiful family or an impressive military career.

And it isn't that she hadn't tried to be the perfect wife and mother. God knows she'd tried. Perhaps it was that level of effort that had prepared her to be the leader she was today. Maybe if she could save lives in battle, she could forgive herself for having ruined her own.

She picked up the coffee again and continued to review the paperwork in silence and deep concentration.

\-----


	2. Chapter 2

When Leia finally stood up from the papers at the table, she didn't even bother to look at the clock. It was in the wee hours of the morning and there was still much work to be done. She returned to the kitchen to refresh her coffee, which was now cold and all but entirely depleted.

The walls of her house were plain and bare with the exception of various Resistance-related articles and reminders attached with magnets to the refrigerator. The only other adornments were three photographs: one of her brother, one of her parents (the parents she knew, that is. The parents whose name she shared) and one of herself, her husband, and her son, from what felt like an eternity ago.

Leia looked at the photograph of her parents very rarely because it made her feel ashamed. In past moments of Rebel triumph, people would often tell her how proud her father would have been, to which she smiled and nodded in response. She'd never mentioned it to anyone, not that she had all that many people to whom she may have mentioned anything, but her parents were her heroes, and no individual act of heroism she'd seen in the entire universe had yet changed that. Her mother's poise and wisdom were traits Leia could only dream of possessing in her life. Her feminine strength and unparalleled passion for her people and her culture inspired Leia as a child. In her eyes, her mother was the ideal queen. Leia'd often tell herself that she'd be satisfied with her life once she became half the woman her mother was.   
Of course she'd always had much more in common with her father. She smiled remembering how many people would tell her she had her father's eyes, despite her being adopted. It was he who taught her to love justice and instilled in her an unshakable allegiance to the Alliance. People spoke of him as a talented politician, but she knew him as much more: A man driven by principle and courage. A man who did what was right. The kindest man in the galaxy.

What would they think of her now? What would they make of this cacophony of glory and shame her life had come to? Leia bowed her head and looked away. She didn't believe she'd ever achieve the greatness of her mother; certainly, she wasn't the image of the Alderaanian princess she'd planned on growing up to be. But, maybe, in her strategic and diplomatic skills, she'd lived a life her father would, in fact, be proud of.

Right next to the photo of Leia's parents was a photo was the photo of her brother in his prime: A young man destined for greatness. His eyes were full of resolve and his smile was full of ambition. Not a day went by when Leia didn't think of him. After all, Leia assembled the Resistance from the left over pieces of the Rebel Alliance in order to find Luke at all costs. She wasn't the only one who believed Luke could restore balance, but the balance of the Force is not the only balance Leia was interested in restoring. It was as if Luke had been placed into her life as some grand connection between her distant past and her impending future; a person who brought together all of the pieces of her existence into a coherent purpose. Then, as quickly as he'd arrived in her life, he was gone again. And that is when everything fell apart.

Early on after Luke's disappearance, Leia had been upset. Hurt, even. It wasn't fair for him to leave all of them behind. More specifically, to leave her behind. She felt guilty at these thoughts, because she knew he was only doing what had to be done, although she never fully understood why. She was loathe to admit it, but she longed to have him back, not because he was a Jedi, but because he was her brother. Maybe with Luke back, everything would make sense again.  
She scoffed at her own thoughts: As if somehow Luke would bring back youth and simplicity. No, Luke was just as troubled as the rest of them, ever since they'd lost Ben to the Dark Side. Certainly wherever he was, he was just as broken as Leia. And she liked to believe he missed her, too.

Pouring her coffee, she gazed as she often did at the unfamiliar faces of the happy family in the photo on the other side of the one of her parents. The now-estranged husband and son who in the photo seemed so happy and so at peace. Leia felt her lips purse into a tight frown as she looked away, even then it had all been an act. And what did that make her, but an impostor. A failure. A woman, so incapable of her role in womanhood, that she had lost both her husband and her only son. She had failed at keeping house and home, the way successful women do. The way her mother did.

Had she been a better mother, could she have prevented this, all of this? Prevented so much of the conflict that had grown to plague not just her home and her heart, but also the entire galaxy? She tried not to engage with this question too often as it made her feel responsible for the countless deaths afflicted by the First Order, the Knights of Ren and the new wave of imbalance brought to the Force. She laughed pitifully to herself at the thought that upsetting the Force seemed to be hereditary, and that fighting to right it always seemed to be a family affair.

Of course those who knew Leia, mostly from the Rebel Alliance, and frequently including those who never cared for Han in the first place, often assured her that it was Han who'd ruined Ben, and not her. Indeed, the family photo would have been more accurate if it depicted Han yelling and Ben crying.

And she? Often when this scene took place, as it seemed to too frequently, she would be cooking quietly. Or working quietly. Or, towards the end, drinking quietly. Leia was not blind to her role in the act: silently consenting to her husband's abuse of their son. Sitting down, Leia put her head in her hands. Was she so afraid of Han then that she couldn't bring herself to come to her own son's defense? Those who knew her now would scarcely believe it: the revered General Organa, quiet and afraid.

When they'd bought the house and began pursuing their fantasy of living a normal life, she and Han both talked of finding regular work: a store clerk, a barber, a librarian. Anything that didn't have to do with the war and the Rebellion. Han took a job transporting goods for a local electronics supplier, a job he claimed to have found through "a friend of a friend". Han always had some sort of a hook up, and it made Leia anxious, knowing how his friends could be. Regardless, it seemed to pay well, and it was entirely legal.

Leia never had time to find a job before she found out she was pregnant. She still remembers the pride on Han's face when she told him he was going to be a father. The thrill of decorating a room, or picking a name. They'd decided on the name 'Ben': A 'strong name' as Han saw it, as well as a nod to the Jedi. In Leia's eyes, there was no better name. She remembered seeing only blue skies ahead. Herself, a young mother. She'd never been so proud. And never would be so proud ever again.

After Ben was born, Han began working more and more to provide for his family, which Leia had seen as selfless and noble. But in time, he was called in for fewer shipments, and it was hard for Leia to find work with no one else to take care of their child. It was when money got tight that Han began using work as an escape, unable to face is young wife empty handed. Often when Leia presumed him to be at work, she later found out, he was instead he was out drinking or gambling with his buddies, spending money he didn't have on things he didn't need. The more Leia would fight with him about money and his responsibility as a father, the more he would run from it. That was, after all, what Han did best: tactically avoid difficult situations.

And for Han, Ben had been a difficult situation. A situation that Leia maybe wished he'd avoided more frequently.

By the time Ben was about ten years old, Leia had determined that having an absent working father was, in fact, better than having a present yelling one. It was obvious that Han was happiest when he was flying his ship and gallivanting around the galaxy. That had always been the case when he was a young man, when he and Leia met, and never once changed. So when he was home, he was often unhappy because of whatever reason it was keeping him from his journeys. It also didn't help that everything Ben did upset him, perhaps because Ben was the reason he was tied down, like he'd always wanted to never be.

Leia sighed. She so often worked with a mind so clouded that the multi-tasking had become a sort of second nature. Usually, though, she was able to avoid the tragic detour down memory lane. She went to open a window and breathe in the cool evening air, pushing the thoughts of families past to the back of her mind, and bringing the thoughts of war and strategy back to the foreground, where it ought to be.

\-----


	3. Chapter 3

Sitting down at that same, plain table, Leia found her work much easier to focus on having prepared a second cup of coffee. This old table had seen more and more late nights and certainly fewer family dinners than it once did years ago. It was here, at this table, where Ben would struggle with homework after school and where Han would crack open a beer after being gone for a week at a time. And it was at this table that Leia could expect hell if those two events happened at the same time.

From a very young age, Ben was the epitome of Han's least ideal son, which broke Leia's heart whenever she thought about it. Ben was quiet and spent a lot of time alone. He didn't seem interested in making friends, and he was particularly not interested in the things Han wanted him to be interested.

"Ben, if you don't want to play any sports, what is it that you're gonna do?" Han pleaded with a nine-year-old boy with short, deep brown hair, big eyes, and an ashamed look on his young face.

Ben just shrugged, not looking at his father.

"I'm serious, kid, how are you going to meet people? Don't you want to make some friends at this school of yours?"

Ben shrugged again. After a minute of silence, he followed it up with "Not really..."

"Well I just don't get it," Han interjected, leaning back in his chair. "What kind of red-blooded boy doesn't want to join the team, meet a bunch of buds, woo a bunch of girls..." He smirked and looked up at his wife who was rummaging in the kitchen.

Leia rolled her eyes and laughed. "Well you didn't exactly meet me being some high school jock," she reminded him. "And not everyone likes sports, Han, believe it or not."

"I like to draw," Ben added eagerly, as if to provide an alternative.

At this, Han laughed aloud. "Well how are you going to make friends drawing? You certainly aren't going to meet any girls drawing."

Leia thought it was ridiculous that Han thought Ben was trying to pursue women at nine years of age, but she never said anything of it. She trusted that, having been a young boy himself once, Han knew what he was doing.

"Leia, you hear this? We've got an artist on our hands!"

Ben sat quietly, the tips of his big ears growing red, uncertain if his father was genuinely celebrating him or laughing at him.

"No, son," Han continued. "No, you don't want to be that weird, lonely guy who sits around drawing all the time."

"Oh..." Ben sounded so hurt and disappointed, Leia looked up from the dinner she was preparing. "Does drawing make me weird?" Ben spoke, barely above a whisper.

Han sighed. "Jesus, kid, I don't know. What I do know is that you could use a little physical fitness. Come on, let's get back to those registration papers."

"No, I don't wanna," Ben spat.

Han's expression darkened instantly. "'No'? Is that any way to talk to your father?" Han stood up and loomed intimidatingly over his son, whose face went white as he slid lower in his chair.

Ben looked down and away. "I'm sorry... I just don't want to-"

"Well that's just too damn bad, isn't it?!" Han's voice grew progressively louder. "No son of mine is going to be some pussy loner. No Solo is going to be an outcast!"

Leia paused, squinting her eyes. How Han consistently missed the irony of statements like that was beyond her.

Han continued bellowing and Leia went back to pretending she couldn't hear the exchange happening in the adjacent room. In the past, Leia hadn't been one to be quiet in situations she didn't approve of. Then again, she'd never before been one for cooking, either, yet somehow she'd ended up in the role of a timid housewife in what felt like the blink of an eye. In many ways, it disgusted her, but maybe, she hoped, she'd get used to it. Maybe even come to enjoy it. Maybe this is the way it's supposed to be.

Whatever that meant.

"Are you listening to me, Ben? I'm your father, and you're going to do what I say, whether you like it or not, do you understand?"

Ben's body stiffened and his eyes filled with tears.

"Jesus, Ben, now you're crying?"

Ben said nothing, and tried to suppress a sob.

"You're always crying, why are you always crying?" Han sounded exasperated. "You're so easily upset, you know that? I swear, you're like a little girl."

At this comment, tears began to roll down Ben's cheeks. His hands flew to his face in humiliation, trying somehow to melt into nothingness as his father berated him.

Leia didn't know what to do, but she was desperate to diffuse the tension seeping into the walls of their home. "Boys," she called out. "Dinner is almost ready, how about you two get washed up?"

Ben stood from the table and ran up the stairs to his bedroom and slammed the door.

"Don't know what we're gonna do with this kid, Leia," Han said, looking over the forms for the extracurricular sign-ups that Ben had brought back from school. He sat down and kicked his feet up on the table. Leia scowled.

"Han, he is just a child," her tone was stern, but Han didn't bother to look up at her cross expression. "Maybe he'll be interested in these things in a few years, when he's a bit older," she continued to negotiate. "But for God sake, Han, you don't need to scream at him until he's in tears."

This accusation got Han's attention. He looked up, the anger returning to his eyes. "'Scream at him'?" he repeated. "Honey, if I were screaming, you'd know it. And don't act like this is my fault, everything makes that boy cry. I'm doing him a favor, helping him establish some thick skin. I bet he'll thank me one day."

Leia glared at him coldly.

After a few silent minutes, Han sighed and his tone changed drastically. His voice was low and calm. "I want him to be better than we were, Leia. I want him to grow up and be somebody great."

Leia didn't respond, but her expression softened. Han continued.

"I didn't have a ton of... friends or anything, growing up. I never learned to work on a team, and I think maybe that's why I ended up to be so stubborn, you know? Maybe I could've been something other than a smuggler if I'd had a better attitude. Someone worthy of marrying the princess."

This level of vulnerability was unprecedented for Han. With their relationship developing primarily in situations of imminent danger, they didn't have much time to talk intimately. Leia was pressed to remember any time at all where they'd ever talked about how they felt. She put a hand atop his and he looked up at her. His eyes now held a depth to them that Leia hadn't seen in sometime. A certain openness. A tentative uncertainty. 

"You've always been worthy," she said softly.

She continued to look at his sad eyes. Where had all this come from? Why had they never talked like this before?

Han smiled, his expression brightening slightly. He shook his head slowly.

"I just want him to be a normal kid, Leia."

"And you're gonna do that by yelling at him?" Leia looked back up towards Ben's room, realizing he still hadn't reemerged.

"Look, I don't know how this works. I didn't have parents around. And I'm not complaining, but I think maybe I could have benefited from a little direction early in life."

Suddenly, it made sense to Leia. With neither she nor Han coming from anything close to a 'normal' upbringing, they were both making it up as they went along. Parenting, in the traditional sense of the word, was something dauntingly foreign to both of them.

She smiled, taking his other hand in hers so they faced each other head-on at the kitchen table. Han smiled widely and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Come on," Han stood up from the table, keeping a hold on his wife's hands so she followed suit. "Go get Ben and let's have dinner." As Leia ascended the stairs, she was giddy. She and Han hadn't gotten much time together, just the two of them, since Ben was born, and she felt like she was meeting her husband all over again for the first time. A sensitive, intimate, human moment, outside of being rescued from a Hutt or freed from carbonite. It brought Leia hope just to sit by the man she loved and silently assure him that everything would be ok.

And back then, she truly believed it.

\-----


	4. Chapter 4

Maybe Leia should have seen the darkness looming in her son at a young age. People often spoke of the legends of Anakin Skywalker's youth, and how the Jedi council foresaw trouble in him from the very beginning. Everything about Ben, at the time, Leia had attributed to normal teenage angst. How was she to know? She'd never been a mother before. She often tried to think about what her own mother would do in difficult situations, but determined she wasn't enough like her mother to successfully live out her tender skill of child rearing.

She tried not to be too anxious when Ben started dressing in tight, black clothes and listening to what she thought was absurd and disturbing music. He grew out his hair, which she didn't care for either, but never did tell him. She wanted him to do what made him happy. She trusted him. After all, he mostly just kept to himself and never got into any trouble.

Han chose a different approach.

"Come on, kid, what are you mourning, your GPA?"

Ben just stared at his father coldly, not returning any sarcasm.

Han chuckled to himself. "I'm just saying, it's getting kind of creepy."

It was a Saturday morning, and Han had plans to leave on a work-related trip, so he said, even though he'd just returned from one a few days prior. Leia was relieved he was leaving again, since it meant she could work on her projects without all of the sneaking around. She had taken up some administrative work on behalf of the Alliance and hadn't told Han about it. Having moved away to distance themselves from their old way of life, Leia felt guilty going back to the work she had been so obsessed with in the past. The death of Darth Vader had brought an end to much of the conflict, but there were negotiations to be made and prisoners to be dealt with. The war was never over, which, for once, Leia found herself grateful for. This sort of work was to be kept particularly confidential, and Leia would never admit that she was in fact excited to be a part of it. Besides, she was being paid a small stipend which compensated for the money Han spent frivolously. Needless to say, she kept the money a secret, also.

She walked downstairs to see what was going on, and to not seem so preoccupied with the work she was doing in her room.

"Is that..." Han started, still looking at Ben, who was headed up the stairs as his mother was headed down. "Ben, are you wearing makeup?"

Leia was close enough to him to see that it was so, just some thin eyeliner and potentially a foundation. Leia was shocked to see how much he looked like her in her youth with just a tasteful bit of makeup on his pale face. His hair and eyes were both a deep brown, just like hers. His attitude, though, was that of his father's.

Ben rolled his eyes. "Yes..." he answered, voice filled with irritation. It was clear he was hoping his father wouldn't notice, after all, Han didn't pay a ton of attention to anything else Ben did.

"Well are you a woman?" Han asked rhetorically. "No? Then you shouldn't be wearing makeup. Now go take that off."

"Other guys at school do it, too," Ben growled. "I thought I'd try it out. It's a thing; it's not only me."

"It's a stupid thing, is what it is," Han responded, gathering things together to go on his trip. Leia couldn't imagine he was really going to need two decks of cards and a handle of whiskey to ship electronics across systems. By this time she was down in the living room and could see clearly what Han was assembling, as well as the display between her husband on the ground floor and her son on the landing of the stairs.

"Is that why you're doing it? Other kids at school do it?" Han continued. "Peer pressure is a dangerous thing, kid. Are any of them offering you death sticks?"

"Han, he's thirteen," Leia cut in. "I hardly expect anybody is doing anything like that at this age. Besides, didn't you want him to fit in with the other kids?"

"Not those kids," he grumbled. He looked up at Ben again. "People are going to think you're a fag if you keep dressing like that and wearing makeup," he hollered.

"Han!" Leia barked.

Ben stood on the landing, stunned, a red color spreading across his face.

Han shrugged at Leia. "Just saying."

Ben stomped up the stairs, but could still hear his father yell "Don't get too upset, or you'll cry off your mascara!"

To this, Leia had no response, and in a few minutes, Han stole a kiss and headed out the door, onto the Falcon, and off the planet.

Good, now she could get back to work.

Leia went back to her computer in her room until she heard Ben cursing in the bathroom. Somehow, she'd gotten so wrapped up in politics that she'd nearly forgotten the whole spectacle with Han and Ben. She knocked tentatively on the bathroom door.

"Go away, Dad!" Ben screamed, his voice hoarse.

"Ben? It's me, it's Mom," Leia spoke softly. "Can... I come in?"

She could have sworn she heard him mumble something affirmative, so she opened the door to see Ben furiously scrubbing the eyeliner from around his eyes. His eyes were red, along with the rest of his face, due to the either the scrubbing or the anger, but likely a combination of the two. 

As usual, Leia didn't really know what to say.

Ben stood in front of the mirror, panting, his shoulder-length hair hanging in front of his face. "I'm the ugliest person in the whole galaxy," he said dryly. "I wish I could wear a mask all the time so nobody would have to see my hideous face."

"No, honey," Leia started.

"I've got big ears, and a big nose, and a stupid big mouth..."

Leia smiled. "I think you have lovely ears, and a lovely nose and mouth," she knelt down to be a bit closer to her son, who just shook his head at her compliments.

"In fact," she continued, "I've always thought you looked a bit like me."

"Great," Ben mumbled sarcastically, "the last thing I want is to look like a girl."

"I didn't mean it like that," Leia said running a hand through Ben's hair and tucking it behind his ear. He smiled meekly at her attempt to be comforting.

"Dad thinks I'm ugly, though," Ben's face dropped as he continued to talk. "He always makes fun of my hair or my clothes or something..."

"Don't worry about your father," Leia said, trying to remove her own irritation with Han from the emotion in her voice. "He doesn't know what he's saying half the time. I swear sometimes he doesn't know what he's saying until he hears the words come out of his mouth." At this, Ben laughed.

Leia was glad to make her son smile. Ben didn't smile a lot, particularly since starting school.

"You know what, Ben?" Leia smiled widely, and Ben looked up. "You're father's gone for a while. I've got a bit of money saved up. Want to go out for ice cream tonight?"

Ben beamed.

"See," Leia cooed, "There's that beautiful smile."

Ben's smile grew at his mother's remark. And so the two of them left and walked to the ice cream shop nearby. Ben told his mother about classes in school and the other kids he sat by, the ones he liked, the ones he didn't like, and the ones he didn't really care about either way. In this moment, Ben seemed like a normal kid. Leia seemed like a normal mother. Everything seemed good. Correct, even.

Now, years later, Leia still remembered it as if it were yesterday. There was nothing she wouldn't have done to have this moment back: mother and son. Happy. Together. This is the moment she always looked back on when she thought of Ben as her son, not as a puppet of the First Order. This is the moment that Leia thought of and was sure there was still light in him, somewhere, somehow.

\-----


	5. Chapter 5

Leia hadn't been wrong about Ben getting into sports when he was older, but looking back, it seemed clear to her that he only ever did it to achieve the unattainable goal of being what his father wanted him to be, which involved living up to Han's definition of what it meant to be a man.

And he never really made fast friends. After the first week, he'd come home with a black eye. Though Leia was upset, she was hardly surprised. Ben was different from the other kids, for all fifteen years of his life, he'd had a hard time fitting in. Or maybe he'd never been bothered to try, that is, until now, by request of his father.

When he got home that day, he was even more quiet than usual. Leia, of course, noticed his unusual behavior and, consequently, his bruised face.

"Ben?" She inquired.

He didn't look up, and tried to hide the side of his face that was black and blue.

"...Yeah?" His voice was soft and attempted to seem very nonchalant. Hiding emotions was not something he was ever skilled at.

"Ben, what happened?"

"N-nothing," he lied futilely, his face growing red as he tried to stay cool and collected.

Leia sighed. "Ben..." she spoke softly and tenderly, and finally her son decided he couldn't hide it any longer.

"The guys on the team... they don't like me, they think I'm weird..." Tears pooled in his dark eyes, upsetting him further.

Leia stood up from where she'd been sitting, at the table, and went to hold her son, who found it harder to hold back tears at the moment of his mother's embrace.

"And three of them... well, they started pushing me around... they called me a freak..."

Leia stroked his shaggy hair. Ben swallowed hard.

"But they're right, Mom... I am a freak..." He buried his face in her shoulder, his whole body shaking, his breathing uneven through the tears.

Leia wanted desperately to calm him, but she didn't know how. "You're not a freak, Ben, you're not," she spoke, trying to sound heartening.

"You don't understand!" he screamed. He yanked his head up and looked right into her eyes. Ben's face and eyes were red and tear stained, and his expression was that of panic.

Leia was quiet. Her son seemed to be gasping for air, barely able to form words.

"I-I have these powers... I... can move things, I hear people's thoughts..." he threw his head into his hands and collapsed on the ground, visibly confused and afraid.

"I don't know why, what's wrong with me..."

Leia could feel her eyes widen and her face go pale.

In an attempt to remove their whole family from the war and the chaos of Han's and Leia's past, they'd made the decision to raise Ben with no mention of their history. No mention of the Rebel Alliance. No mention of the Force. They talked about some day, maybe, introducing him to all these things but in fifteen years it hadn't happened. And in this moment, Leia saw that all of the things they'd kept from their son to protect him were causing him much more pain than she'd ever imagined.

Looking back, Leia realized how foolish it was to think she could keep the Force a secret. How could she keep her son from discovering an energy that lives in and through everything in the universe? How could she have thought that a Force-sensitive boy wouldn't discover his abilities, just because she'd never told him about what the Force was?

She didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come to her defense.

Han did, though.

"Hey, hey, what's all this?!" Han rushed into the room. Leia couldn't tell if he was concerned or angry.

"Some of the kids on the team were giving Ben a hard time..." Leia began to explain. Han didn't appear to listen, instead walking right up to Ben, who had stood up and wiped the tears off his face. He knew how much his father hated it when he cried.

"That's quite the shiner you got, kid," Han leaned over to inspect Ben's eye. "Did you get into a fight?"

"I didn't do anything!" Ben protested. "They hit me, I didn't do anything to any of them!"

"Well, next time," Han spoke lowly, "You gotta do something about it! You can't just let bullies push you around, Ben, you gotta stand up for yourself!"

Ben nodded.

"Do you understand?" Han asked, looking Ben in the eye.

"I don't really want to hurt anybody..." Ben seemed to say mostly to himself, but that didn't stop his father from continuing to give advice.

"Well then you're gonna keep getting hurt yourself! It's called self-defense. Sometimes you've got to get them before they can get you, you know what I'm saying?"

Leia rolled her eyes at the way Han was talking, as if he'd ever been in a physical altercation. He knew as well as she did that he was more likely to run from a fight than participate; it's part of the smuggler's trade, after all.

Still, she could see the wheels turning in Ben's head. She could feel his self-pity turn into a fiery anger. He nodded again.

After that day, Ben never again came home with another black eye. Leia pretended not to notice when he frequently instead came home with busted knuckles. And soon thereafter, physical force was no longer necessary, as Ben had come to use a different type of Force to intimidate his oppressors. But Leia could feel it within herself that the Force was being used to hurt and harm. She knew he was using the Force as a weapon, and not exclusively for self-defense.

 

 

Now, years later, Leia thought about it all, sipping her coffee, staring blankly out the window.

She knew the Force was strong with him. She knew it then, but continued to deny it. In retrospect, Leia was ashamed of her short-sightedness, thinking only about herself and her family. She wanted so badly for her son to be happy. She wanted him to be able to live a normal life. She wanted their whole family to live in peace. The Jedi's life was not that of peace. She didn't want that responsibility to be put on the shoulders of her child.

Being a mother had cost her her vision for the universe. Whatever happened to the young princess who loved justice? What happened to the Leia who was driven by a mission to fight evil at all costs, and bring freedom to even the farthest systems?

For what had she given up her life of ambition? For what had she left her life of purpose to pursue the life of a housewife?

For simplicity? For normalcy?

For a life with Han?

She scoffed at the thought. She'd been so blinded by her love for him in her youth, and then so blinded by her love for their son years later. All she'd ever wanted was for them all to be happy.

How ironic, now, that none of them were.

 

\-----


	6. Chapter 6

"Ben!" Leia called up the stairs, "Come down already, we have company!"

Han had informed Leia earlier that day that they'd be hosting dinner for a few of his buddies who were in town. Leia forced a pleasant smile when Lando walked in the door, accompanied by two other human men she'd never met. Who were all these friends of Han's, anyway? And why were they all so damned dreadful? In Leia's eyes, Han always seemed to find the slimiest, scummiest, most morally ambiguous people in the universe to hang around with. Han was one of those men who was an entirely different creature around his friends than he was when he was alone with her. His friends always seemed to bring out the worst in him. Needless to say, she wasn't enthusiastic about these strangers being in her house. 

"BEN!" She hollered again.

"I'm coming, alright?!" Ben growled as he stomped down the stairs. His dark hair hung on his face and bounced as he descended, along with the ill-fitting sweatshirt and sweatpants he wore to the family's impromptu dinner party. Leia had half a mind to tell him to change, but then remembered how little she cared for the company they had, so it may have been just as well that Ben was under dressed. 

"Ben, that was the third time I called you, come on, what is taking you so long?" 

"I was finishing up a drawing," Ben responded coldly, slumping into his seat at the table. 

"Still? With the drawing?" Han sighed, looking away from one of the mysterious guests he'd invited over. "You know, you do all this drawing, I don't know if I've ever seen one."

"Well they're not meant for you," Ben sniped coldly. 

Shortly the food was on the table, and Han and his buddies dominated the conversation. The more the men drank, the more obnoxious they became, and the more obnoxious the men were, the more Leia drank to drown them out. Ben stayed sober and quiet. 

"Excuse me for a moment, will you, fellas?" Han got up from the table, stumbling, eliciting a drunken raucous laughter from Lando and the others. Han ascended the stairs of his and Leia's humble home, and the meal went quiet until he returned, proudly carrying a black and white composition notebook. Ben's eyes went wide and heat crept up the back of his neck. 

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Han slurred loudly "Welcome to the artistic debut of Ben Solo!"

"Dad, no," Ben half whispered, half screamed. 

Leia, despite the drinking she had done to offset the drinking done by the others, saw Ben's evident embarrassment, and tried to encourage him. "Oh Ben, I'm sure you're a great artist."

Without seeming to have listened to his mother, Ben focused all attention on his father, standing up and trying to get the notebook from his hands before he had the chance to open it.

But it was too late. 

Han opened the notebook before he sat down, and Ben froze. 

"Oh, jeez," Han groaned, his face growing equal parts disappointed and disgusted. At this reaction, Lando stood up to get a better look. He looked from the book to Ben, a grin spreading across his face. 

"Han, buddy, it looks like your kid's got some talent," he laughed, slapping Han on the back before sitting down again. His drunken laughter continued, causing the other two strange men to stand up to check out what had their buddy busting at the seams.

"Siddown, boys," Han murmured, motioning with his hand for them to stay put. At this point Leia finally got a glimpse of the drawing that was attracting so much attention. 

Han held the book open to the very first page. The drawing was of a man, tall and slender, with pale skin, perfectly quaffed hair, and a sultry look on his angular face. He wore an unbuttoned dress shirt, exposing his chest and abdomen, the buckle of his curiously low-rising pants was at the very lower bound of the paper.

Han started flipping pages. 

"Don't, please..." Ben begged, reaching again for the notebook, but Han payed no attention. Nor did Leia, who stood right next to him as he turned to the next drawing.

The following pages showed similar slender, light haired men in varying degrees of undress. As the pages went on, the images become more realistically detailed.

The drawings also became more explicitly sexual. Leia finally looked away several pages in, at an unnervingly realistic nude drawing of the usual subject at a very compromising angle.

"No, it- it's not like that, it's not what it looks like," Ben pleaded, desperately seeking options to make it all stop.

"It's NOT?!" Han roared. "Because what it LOOKS LIKE is that you're a FAGGOT, BEN." Han's voice rung clearly through the dining room, and everyone else went quiet.

Han went from jovial drunken host to angry drunken father very quickly. His previously boisterous friends sat in stunned silence, as did Leia, who stared at her mortified son.

"I'm NOT, it's not like that!" Ben screamed, frantically trying to gain control of the conversation. "It's just ART, it's not PERSONAL, it's not... it's not what you think."

Han scowled and thrust the book across the table into Ben's face.

"Oh YEAH? Because ONE of the guys in THIS picture looks a LOT LIKE YOU, BEN."

Ben tore the book from his father's hands, and in a fit of rage, threw him against the wall, choking him with his raw and self-acquired knowledge of the Force. Leia screamed. Han's buddies rose from their chairs in horror. Ben looked into his father's eyes as he watched him struggle for breath.

"Don't EVER go through my stuff."

Ben released his grip and disappeared out the front door, leaving his father to drop to the floor, gasping for breath. It took Leia and Lando to physically restrain Han from going after Ben while he screamed obscenities cursing his son.

\-----

It was two days later when Ben finally returned. Leia wouldn't have noticed, either, had she not heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering against a wall. She had been so wrapped up in her top-secret work that she hadn't heard her son enter the house or walk up the stairs. 

She flung open the door to Ben's room just in time to see him throw a picture frame at the wall. He froze and looked at his mother with crazed eyes, breathing heavily.

Leia was speechless. She wanted to help him, but she didn't know how. In this moment she barely recognized this violent, unhinged beast as her sixteen-year-old son. For the first time, she found herself-

"...Afraid of me?" Ben accused, his voice soft as if in disbelief.

Again, Leia opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn't find any words with which to respond. Luckily, or unluckily as it were, she didn't need to speak for Ben to know what she was thinking.

His hurt expression rose back into that of fury. "You're afraid of me?! What, you think I'm some monster?! Some... dangerous, repulsive THING?!"

Ben's chest began rising and falling as his breathing became heavy again. His face was red and his lips trembled as he panted. He blinked resentful tears out of the sides of his eyes and let them fall freely on his face, taking a final deep breath before opening his mouth to speak again.

"I've tried so hard to be normal, Mom, but I'm just not." A painful confession that escaped from his lips barely above a whisper.

Every part of Leia's mind began to race and spin. It cried 'I understand. I tried to be a normal mother and a normal wife and now I have a life and a family that I hardly recognize as my own.' She longed to run to him, take him in her arms and say 'It's ok, you don't need to be anything other than what you are,' 'You're my son and I love you regardless of anything you could ever do,' 'I love you more than anything.'

But the only word her lips could find was "Ben..." 

She moved towards him, more by instinct than by conscious choice, and cupped his cheek in her hand. She looked into his tormented eyes, then down to his hands, which were bloodied from broken glass. The shattered picture frames glittered on the ground, and among the shards of glass and busted metal borders, she could see the photo of the happy family that now hangs in her kitchen.


	7. Chapter 7

After the blowout between her husband and son, Leia was determined to make things right again. The major flaw in this line of thinking, she realized, is that to make something "right again" it had to be "right" at sometime in the past.

To Leia's surprise, or maybe relief, Han also seemed invested in remedying the situation. He had made an effort to apologize, (with a surprising amount of sincerity and humility, Leia noted), but that, too, had landed him in an invisible choke hold at the hands of his son.

If there was any doubt that Ben kept to himself before, there was certainly no questioning it now. His mother only ever saw him for meals, and even then he'd often eat quickly and retreat back to his room. His teen-aged moodiness had evolved into fits of full-blown violence and aggression. He'd broken lamps, kicked in doors, even put a hole through his wall (how, exactly, Leia didn't understand).

Despite all of the tumult and anxiety under their roof, Han and Leia almost never talked about it. Han vented his frustration through snide remarks and increasingly frequent trips to places Leia knew better than to ask about. As for Leia, she drank. She'd invested more and more of her money in liquor, which numbed the worry and masked the misery that had become her new normal. But after a couple glasses of whiskey, she decided she wanted tonight to be different. Tonight, she was going to fix everything.

Oh, what a lofty goal that was.

Leia took a deep breath before knocking on Ben's door. There was no answer. She knocked again and finally received a soft, irritated "Yes?"

She opened the door. She wasn't sure if she'd been invited to, but she opened it to see Ben, sitting on his bed, waiting for her to say something. He looked at her with his dark, empty eyes, which she could hardly see behind the locks of curly, jet-black hair. When he'd dyed it from dark brown to darker black she wasn't sure, but she didn't say anything about it. The room, too, seemed darker. His bed was unmade, the floors cluttered with various destroyed furniture. In fact, Leia couldn't find a single fixture that wasn't broken. She looked back to Ben, and noted that he looked the same way: broken.

Leia cleared her throat. "Can we eat dinner together tonight? As a family?"

Ben stared blankly at his mother.

"...For once?"

Ben laboriously pulled himself from his room and slunk down the stairs. Already at the table was his father, who looked just as pleased to attend "family dinner" as Ben did.

"Ben, long time no see!" Han smiled as his son approached, but Ben just managed a silent scowl in return.

"The hair's... new." Han added, biting back any judgmental remark at the last minute. Ben rolled his eyes and sat down.

"So," Leia began, awkwardly trying to start conversation between three people who seemed to barely know each other. "Ben, how was school?"

"Fine," Ben murmured, taking a fork full of the dinner Leia had thrown together.

"Is it? 'Fine'?" His father probed, looking up from his plate.

Ben sighed indignantly. "No, Dad. I hate it. I hate every minute of it and every person at that school, is that what you want to hear?!"

Leia could see his face grow hot with rage as his voice became louder. He stared daggers into Han, his previously vacant eyes filled with fire. Leia scrambled to change the subject.

"Ok, well how about not school, what else is new with you?"

She immediately regretted asking that. She knew what was "new with him": constant anger. Nights spent crying himself to sleep. Episodic destruction whenever he was home (as well as when he was away from home, if the calls from school meant anything). Leia was relieved when Ben just shrugged and went back to his food. Great, she thought. Good talk. At least no one could say she didn't try.

Dinner went on silently, apart from the occasional cough and the clinking of forks on plates. Until, unprompted, Ben said

"Did you ever hear the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?"

Leia choked on her milk, taking care not to spit it all over the table.

Han laughed. "No, Ben, I haven't. Is it a novel of some kind?"

"It's a Sith legend," Ben replied earnestly.

That's when it clicked in Leia's head.

The black hair, the black clothes, the destruction, the anger, now the Sith...

It was an obsession with darkness.

A pull to the Dark Side.

She hid her trembling hands beneath the table, and took a deep breath before speaking as calmly as she could.

"Why do you ask, Ben?"

"They're not teaching that shit in school, are they?" Han chimed in. "Sith, the Force, all that?"

Ben squinted resentfully at his father. "Is that what you think? It's all 'shit'?"

"It's just fiction, is all," Han replied.

Now it was Leia's turn to be angry. She could not believe after all this time, after all they'd been through, after all Han had seen, that he still believed the Force was some shared delusion. Certainly, she'd thought, he must have had a change of heart by now.

"Well, for your information, no, they're not teaching it in school," Ben answered coldly. "I've just been doing some reading on my own."

"Why?" Leia heard herself say.

"Because? I don't know." Ben seemed taken aback by his mother's curiosity, which was fitting, because Leia was taken aback that she'd asked the question at all. "It's interesting. It makes sense to me."

"Which part? The Sith or the Force?"

"I don't know," Ben went from annoyed to exasperated. "What does it matter, anyway, if it's all 'fiction'?"

"It's not," Leia spat. Her tone was serious, her voice not even hers. "I know it, you know it, your father knows it, he's just too stubborn to admit it."

Both Han and Ben stared at her in disbelief. It wasn't like her to raise her voice, at least not the way they knew her. When she realized this, she cleared her throat in an effort to regain composure.

"The Dark Side of the Force..." Leia spoke, voice full of concern. "It's really dangerous, Ben, and I don't want to see you get hurt." She paused, considering what to say before adding "...or make a mistake that you can never take back."

Ben just stared at her, eyes narrow.

"How would you know anything about the Dark Side?"

Leia could never tell if that was an accusation or a genuine question.

Inadvertently, she slammed her fists on the table, causing it to shake and yet again alarming Ben and Han, who couldn't understand why this conversation was eliciting such a reaction from her.

They really couldn't understand, she thought. Not if they tried.

Flustered, she rose from the table. She shakily poured herself another drink.

"Enough of this, Ben," she spoke into her glass as she lifted it to her lips.

"No," Ben persisted. "What do you know about the Force? If it's real, why did you never tell me about it?"

"Because of this, Ben, all of this," her voice grew frenzied as she slammed down her empty glass. "The Dark Side, the pain, the suffering... I refused to have it destroy my family again."

"'Again'?"

"Forget about it," Leia trembled.

It was all falling apart.

"What aren't you telling me?!" Ben stood from his chair.

"I said forget it, Ben," she poured another drink.

"Well, then maybe I will go ahead and join the Dark Side!" Ben was screaming now, arms flung from his sides, daring someone to challenge his claim. "At least THAT way I can get away from this HORRIBLE FUCKING FAMILY!"

"You don't KNOW the Dark Side like I DO." Leia shrieked, walking right up to her son, her face red and her eyes crazed.

Ben was speechless. He'd become calloused to his father's constant reprimanding, but never his mother. Not Leia. Not his calm, level-headed, meek, subservient mother.

"I never knew my birth parents; the Dark Side took them from me before I was even born. Killed my mother and turned my father into a _machine._.." she continued, eyes welling with tears.

Memories spilled into her mind like water from a broken dam. It was too long she'd kept her pain buried. It was too long she'd lied.

"The Sith were bred to use the Dark Side to manipulate the natural order. Greed, envy, anger... it all brings darkness. And it was the Dark Side of the Force that took away democracy. Took away freedom in the name of power. In the name of the Empire. Killed the Republic that we'd poured our _lives_ into."

_Her father's commitment to the Senate. To democracy. To equity. Childhood, where Leia always knew she was safe and loved and the right side always won. Darkness never prevailed._

"It took away my father's dream and then it took him away, too. I was only nineteen years old when the only home I ever knew was annihilated in front of my _eyes_. Murdered the parents that raised me... took away everything I ever cared about, Ben. Took my _life_  away."

_The mountains of Alderaan. Her mother's passion and courage. Herself, a princess, growing up with the future burning bright right in front of her._

"And for what?" She nearly laughed, hysterical in her rage. "What had I done to earn any of it? It didn't matter to them. They don't care who you are, they don't care who has to die. The Grand Moff didn't care that he was he was killing my people... erasing entire cultures, and histories, memories, and everything that _made me human_."

That was her perfect family, not this. Han was nothing like her father. Han wasn't a man of integrity. And Leia didn't have courage, not like her mother did. How were the two of them supposed to raise a child to be anything other than broken?

"That's all the Dark Side is, is darkness. Emptiness. Death." She continued, "Absent of compassion, trust, loyalty, everything that my father and mother stood for, and it massacred them just like it's massacred everything good in this universe!"

Tears ran hot down her face. She was lost in fury. She wasn't a mother or a daughter or a wife, she was hardly even a woman. She was unbridled energy, blind madness.

Han stood from where he was seated and walked towards his wife. Maybe to calm her, maybe just to protect his son. When Leia looked at him with her wild eyes, he stopped dead in his tracks. She looked between the two of them, Ben and Han, crazed expression unyielding.

"It's real alright. It's always been real. The Force, the Sith, all of it." She stared into her son's bewildered face. "It's all true."

She laughed again. Shaking her head, and smiling grimly.

"And if you think the Dark Side is some sort of joke... then you must think my life is a joke. My _pain_ is a joke.

Is it, Han?"

She turned to face her husband, who seemed to have no idea what he could possibly do besides stand there, helplessly. He looked like he wanted to say something, but for once, there was nothing he could say.

"Is it?" She repeated. "Is my pain 'fictional' to you?"

If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn she saw tears in his eyes.

And this is when she knew it was over. Her and Han. For how much of their life they'd spent together, they still couldn't agree on the most fundamental view of the universe. She couldn't remember a time she'd felt so disrespected, so belittled. And maybe Han knew it, too, and that's why he looked so shattered.

She turned her attention back to Ben.

"The Dark Side of the Force is a part of life. And for a long time it was kept in balance. But when one crosses over, devoting themselves to the Dark Side... you may want to use its power while maintaining your humanity, but it will rob you of that, too. It will rob you of everything until it's the only thing you have left."

What could her life have been were it not for Darth Vader? Could she have been raised by the mother she was born to, known her brother from birth, gone through her whole life never knowing this deep, persistent ache?

And now her own son. No. The Dark Side had taken everything else. It couldn't have him, too. She wouldn't let darkness be all she had left.

"Anakin Skywalker was living proof of that," She spoke barely above a whisper. "Proof that the Dark Side... takes everything away."

Ben looked from his mother to his father and back again.

"Who's Anakin Skywalker?"

"Anakin Skywalker was my biological father," Leia said, looking away. "The man who became Darth Vader. "

\-----

Shortly after that night, Han and Leia separated and sent Ben off to train with Luke. They didn't know what else to do. Maybe, Leia had hoped, just maybe he'd embrace the life of the Jedi. But deep down, she knew he never would.

And he was gone now. In the most profound sense of the word. The Dark Side, in fact, took him, too.

Took him like it took Anakin Skywalker.

Killed Han liked it killed Padme Amidala.

She and only she, yet again, was spared. Condemned to solitude. The anger and terror she felt on that night had all faded. After all, her vitality stemmed from a place of hope. Without that hope, there was nothing left to fight for. No necessity for fear; she had nothing left to lose.

Except maybe the house.

She looked up at the clock, blinking at it, as if to some how turn back the hours. How had it become so impossibly late?

She sighed. This would have to be good enough for tonight. No matter how much work she got done, it wasn't enough, never enough.

She folded up her papers and left them in a neat pile at the corner of the table for the following day.

Leia slowly climbed the stairs of her empty house, her silhouette disappearing into darkness.


End file.
